


In the Storm

by slashmania



Series: 50 Thousand Words (from October to December!) [23]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Arthur wears no underwear, Eames thinks this is very important, Feelings, In The Storm, Love, M/M, Sharing a Shower, Trust, hiding in a hotel, jobs gone wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:29:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21958159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slashmania/pseuds/slashmania
Summary: “F-Fuck this!” Arthur swore passionately through his cold driven stutter, clutching the PASIV in a white knuckle grip. Eames was running at his side, caught the sound of Arthur’s voice over the wind and rain and couldn’t help but laugh.He was as soaked as Arthur and called out, “I doubt they’ll follow us into this mess.”
Relationships: Arthur/Eames (Inception)
Series: 50 Thousand Words (from October to December!) [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1503791
Kudos: 28





	In the Storm

**Author's Note:**

> Day 23: In the Storm  
> 3,599 words

They were escaping from a firefight into the storm. Arthur remembered the forecast from that morning had said all sorts of things- this area would get more than two inches of rainfall that would lead to some areas flooding; the high would be fifty-two degrees so the weatherman in front on the green screen playfully suggested that the viewers ought to bundle up. Arthur wished he hadn’t left his jacket inside the room they just escaped.

The rain was icy as it fell in piercing sheets over their heads. It didn’t take long for Arthur’s clothes to be completely soaked through, for the pomade in his hair to release its hold.

“F-Fuck this!” Arthur swore passionately through his cold driven stutter, clutching the PASIV in a white knuckle grip. Eames was running at his side, caught the sound of Arthur’s voice over the wind and rain and couldn’t help but laugh.

He was as soaked as Arthur and called out, “I doubt they’ll follow us into this mess.”

Arthur huffed and noticed his breath steaming in the air. For some reason this pissed him off even more. “They don’t even have the balls to chase us out into this mess? Assholes.”

They continued running till they round the next corner, and then found shelter under the awning of a hotel. They were unarmed, soaking wet and no longer in immediate danger. But their car was far away, it was raining so heavily, and quite frankly, Arthur wanted to hide out more than he wanted to find a way back to the location of their failed extraction and beat the men who outgunned them to a living pulp with his bare hands.

“Arthur, love, you’re shaking,” Eames said matter of factly, pointing at the Arthur’s faintly trembling hands. Arthur noticed it too and at first had thought he was shaking in rage.

“We’re both cold and we need to regroup, how about we just check in to a room here and relax. Room service is on me, love.”

Arthur looked up at him sharply and shook his head. “I appreciate the sentiment but I don’t trust your credit card not to get canceled here. I’ll take this one. You get the next.”

Then Arthur lead the way into the hotel, not giving a damn that his clothes were dripping all over the god damned place. Eames followed after him, not bothering to hold back his laughter.

* * *

Though they were wet and not exactly presentable, Arthur and Eames were able to score a very nice room without having to answer many questions aside from ‘Is it really pouring out there?’ and they answered ‘Oh yeah, it’s raining buckets. It’s raining cats and dogs. Stay in here because you’ll need a boat if you try to go out later.’

They entered the room with nothing but the clothes on their backs and whatever they’d managed to keep in their pockets before running. Oh, and the PASIV too.

“I bet if we ask them nicely they’ll put our clothes through a dryer,” Eames was saying to Arthur who was busy putting his gun with the safety on beneath his pillow where it could be hidden from others but still be in easy reach.

“My clothes are mostly dry clean only. I’d kill for dry socks right now.”

Eames raised an eyebrow at this. “Dry underwear would be great.”

Arthur smirked and simply said, “I don’t have to worry about that, then.”

Eames refused to press for a more explicit answer, because he would focus on that new fact way too much.

Arthur wasn’t wearing any underwear, Eames thought with a little thrill. Maybe Arthur had never worn underwear in the waking world because Eames _did_ recall the one time they had to quickly strip out of the clothes they were wearing in the dream because the fibers spontaneously caught fire. Eames recalled that time and used the image of Arthur’s torso when he forced his shirt over his head and threw it several yards away from himself so it could burn away without singeing him, as something to wank off to when he wasn’t so focused on the man’s dark eyes and how attractive he’d looked just by being so fucking competent!

That time Arthur had stripped off his burning pants and revealed that he was wearing a nice pair of briefs that accentuated the curve of his arse very well.

And then Arthur had starting beating out the flames on Eames’s shoulders and started yelling at him to fucking disrobe or burn to death in the dream!

“You idiot,” Arthur had hissed as he helped Eames out of his clothes in a completely nonsexual way that still felt sexy to Eames. “Do you want to die down here?”

The answer was no. No, Eames wanted to be around Arthur for as long as he was able, for as long as Arthur would have him, really.

Eames nodded in response to what Arthur had said, getting back into the conversation instead of reminiscing over the time he’d seen Arthur in his underwear in a shared dream, but now armed with the knowledge that Arthur wore nothing beneath his trousers in reality.

“What I’m going to suggest to you now,” Arthur began to say, looking up at Eames from under his lashes, almost seductively, or trying to be more than terrifyingly levelheaded, “you can say yes or no and I won’t be bothered in the least.”

“What do you want to do, love?” Eames couldn’t help but answer. He’d follow Arthur into almost anything. Arthur was a man who woke up every morning and said, ‘I’m going to confidently walk around in my sexy suits and not give a damn that I’ve got no underwear on’ and that was the kind of man Eames found he could trust as long as it was Arthur since he already built years and years of trust with him. The fact that this man walked the streets without underwear was one of the most intimate things that Eames had learned about Arthur yet, and he wasn’t even sure if Arthur was really the point man’s true name.

“I want to take a shower. I want lots of room service too. If we shower together it will mean that I can try to hang some of my clothing to drip-dry over the shower curtain rod before I go to work on drying my suit in a towel to preserve its shape.”

And that was how he stated it. Eames could see how well it would work if he went along with it.

“That sounds like an excellent plan. How about you drape your clothes over that chair while I get ready in there?”

Arthur didn’t question why Eames wanted to go in first. Eames gently closed the door, used the restroom, flushed, and undressed while he looked at his reflection in the mirror.

He couldn’t say it out loud because Arthur would obviously hear him if he gave himself a speech in the bathroom.

So Eames thought it really hard:

_Okay, Mr. Eames. Arthur is going to come in here and he is going to be naked. With you. You will be naked together._

_It is going to be amazing and wonderful, but you must not lose your cool. You must think to yourself ‘Oh, he’s naked and I’m naked and there’s nothing sexual about this at all. Nothing. We’ll enjoy the hot water, clean up, use those big fluffy white towels to dry off, and then get into the complimentary robes so we can order a lot of room service._

_Whatever is on that menu that screams comfort foods, Arthur will probably want them. And between the two of you you’ll need a lot of food after that insane run in the storm. Stupid storm. Or, to put a positive spin on it, what a lovely storm for allowing them to get into this situation. What a wonderful storm that got them all wet and forced them to seek lodging for warmth._

Eames nodded to himself and said, “You’re ready.”

“Yes, I am,” Arthur said, making Eames jump a little in surprise. He placed one hand over his heart and smiled at the point man.

And there they were together, naked as the day they were born, making direct eye contact. Eames hadn’t looked down. From this angle he had the perfect view of Arthur’s chest; the man had the loveliest torso. Loveliest _everything_ , Eames was sure but wasn’t going to look further and check.

“What are you smiling about, Mr. Eames,” Arthur asked.

“You look nice,” Eames said without putting much thought into it. It was accurate, but he didn’t compliment Arthur’s finer features like he thought they deserved, but Arthur appeared to be pleased either way.

“Same goes for you. Ready to get into the shower?”

Eames looked at the shower with some concern. “Are we really going to fit in here at the same time, darling?”

“What happened to dreaming bigger, Eames?” Arthur leaned forwards and reached for the tap, Eames carefully moving out of the way so that he wouldn’t touch Arthur unexpectedly. He was successful as Arthur turned on the water and let it run for a few minutes to heat up.

“Give that a little time and it should be nice and hot, but not blistering, just the way we like it,” Arthur commented before looking at the things they had been given to wash and condition their hair, the little bars of soap wrapped up in paper. He unwrapped the bars of soap and passed them to Eames along with the shampoos and conditioners.

The water was starting to get nice and steamy as it sprayed from the shower head, but Arthur tested it with his hand first before stepping inside and offering Eames his hand so he could steady himself as he entered the shower, bathing products clutched to his wide chest.

Once they were both in the shower with the shower curtain closed to prevent the bathroom floor from getting too wet, Eames just enjoyed the steam and heat from the water.

“Here, pass me the stuff you’re carrying and I’ll set it on the soap dish or the shower caddy”

Eames did so, and definitely didn’t feel electricity when Arthur’s fingers touched his own.

“What’s your preference, love,” Eames said, kicking himself silently for calling Arthur love while they were both naked in an enclosed space. If Arthur was unhappy with him he could easily end Eames’s life by accidentally slipping and collapsing Eames’s throat with his elbow as they both fell down, Arthur atop Eames.

“I usually shampoo first, let it sit and then soap up. Rinse and then use the conditioner. I’m just not sure that if this stuff is going to make my dandruff act up...”

Then Arthur blinked and said, “Sorry, I said that. It was probably a little too much information for a shower shared by two dream criminals.”

Eames frowned. “Dandruff sucks and you don’t have to apologize for it. If it acts up we can get a hat.”

Arthur looked oddly touched over Eames’s thoughtfulness.

“Let’s keep our fingers crossed then.” He unscrewed the small bottle of shampoo and poured some into his free hand, offering some to Eames who held his hand out. Arthur poured the rest of the shampoo into the forger’s palm.

“I’ve got a proposition to make,” Eames offered as Arthur was about to run his fingers through his own hair. Arthur paused, brow raised in question. “There’s not much room available in here for us to shampoo, bathe and condition while sharing the spray of water without accidentally punching each other.”

“If you suggest we bathe each other that might cross a boundary of mine. I haven’t even had sex with you yet.”

Eames’s eyes widened. “You say it like you’ve considered it.”

Arthur snorted. “When am I not thinking about having sex with you? It’s extremely unprofessional of me, I know, but you’re so...”

“Annoying?”

“I was going to say attractive. But you can also be annoying in your attractiveness so I’ll accept that.”

“Are we going to waste this gloriously hot water discussing boundaries or are we going to get this part over with so we can get to what we _really_ want.”

Arthur’s eyes darkened and Eames knew he made the right argument. The point man almost purred the word, “Room service.”

“I’m not thinking with my dick right now,” Eames confessed, “though I did have to give myself a big talk about how this didn’t really have to mean anything except two guys who work together and have excellent chemistry sharing a shower and then bothering room service and the front desk about access to a dryer.”

“Sounds like it was a good talk for you,” Arthur agreed. “I’ll wash your hair if you wash mine.”

Eames had no trouble agreeing to that. He enjoyed the way Arthur threaded his fingers through Eames’s wet hair, letting only a little of the water mix with the shampoo so he could work up a lather.

Eames did the same for Arthur, carefully and patiently.

They did a thorough rinse, each standing under the shower head for a minute or two to get rid of all the lather. Despite what they said before, they also worked together with the small bars of soap that Arthur kept muttering were about as good for cleaning floors considering it barely had enough moisture to make their skin from feeling like scales or leather. It got the job done, at least.

Arthur and Eames carefully stepped out of the shower and passed each other fluffy white towels.

Arthur dried himself off and stepped out of the bathroom to enter the hotel room again. He waited for Eames to get out before he entered again, towel securely wrapped around his waist so he could hang his wet clothing to drip-dry on the shower curtain rail.

Once he was back, he noticed that Eames had pulled out the robes which were also white and made of a nice soft material and dropped his towel on a chair to don his.

Arthur tried not to stare at Eames who was busy trying to get his arms into the sleeves of the robe. Or to be accurate he hadn’t been staring for every long because that just wasn’t polite. He finally did, Arthur’s view was cut off by the long robe settling into place on Eames’s broad shoulders.

Arthur followed suit and dropped his towel so he could put on his robe too. It felt wonderful against his skin, and when he cinched it shut with the tie at his waist, he let out a sigh of relief. The robe was actually long enough that he wouldn’t have to bother with a towel underneath it to answer the door for room service.

Arthur began toweling his hair dry. Or sort of dry. He would prefer a hair dryer for this, but it didn’t look like the room came with one.

He’d found a complimentary comb that was wrapped in a sheath of plastic. He ran it under some water from the sink, dried it off on the towel and then carefully began to comb his hair. As he predicted, his hair was misbehaving after using the hotel shampoo and conditioner. He pretended that he couldn’t see the flakes already appearing in his hair. Eames had already made it a point to say that it wasn’t a big deal and he shouldn’t worry about it. This wasn’t even his fault any way.

As Arthur was combing his hair in the bathroom, Eames was going through a similar routine out in the larger room.

Eames already had the robe on, he was drying his hair, and he was looking at the room service menu and noticing that it was lacking some of the things he really wanted to eat right now but that was fine. There would be time to get whatever they wanted once they were out of this hotel. They could do whatever they wanted.

“Aw, they have soup, but I really wish they had comfort foods available on the menu.”

Arthur was standing at Eames’s side, his hair fluffy but neatly as combed as possible. He was offering Eames another plastic wrapped comb and had been reading the menu over Eames’s shoulder.

“What comfort foods are you craving right now?”

Arthur sighed a little and sat on the edge of the bed. “Meatloaf. My mother has this excellent recipe for meatloaf that she always made during shitty weather like this. When I was a kid I’d get home from school and smell it cooking in the oven. The first thing I would have to do was rush over to her and give her a hug.”

Eames sat by Arthur’s side and smiled. “My god that’s sweet.”

Eames was already imagining little Arthur (Or whatever his real name was supposed to be, but Eames knew him as Arthur now, so he would stay Arthur forever in Eames’s mind. There was something very comforting about that) doing just that. Greeting his mother after a long wet day out at school, maybe a bus trip or bike ride home, and then finally arriving where his mother was waiting for him with his favorite meal on a crummy day.

“I’ve got that recipe and I know how to make it for myself, but sometimes I like coming home for a visit and realizing that she’s made it for me because she knew I was arriving soon.”

Eames knew that this would usually be the time where he’d offer a similar story or at least something on the same topic, but he didn’t think his own mother quite measured up to the woman that Arthur was describing. Eames loved his mother, of course he did, but he understood that she hadn’t truly wanted to become a mother, and that it was very hard for her to do with his father only sometimes becoming involved in the most important aspects of his youth, but that it was, like he said before, hard.

It wasn’t something that Eames wanted to talk about much, so he let his comment be a statement that was still factual but didn’t reveal much about himself. He could talk about himself later.

“Your mother sounds so wonderful, Arthur. It’s like she started life in a story book and then hitched a ride to the real world just to have you. My own mother was usually too stressed to do many things like that for me.”

Accurate but vague enough that it shouldn’t worry Arthur. Arthur always worried no matter what had happened or when it happened. As if it was somehow in his power to fix all of it.

Arthur had caught something of the underlying tone. He leaned forwards and said, “Maybe next place we’ll go together should be my place- I’ll make you meatloaf with whichever sides you like best.” And then Arthur kissed him full on the lips.

“Was this the trick all along?” Eames asked once they’d broken the kiss.

“What trick?”

“ _The_ _trick!_ If I had known that you would become more receptive to anything that even seemed romantic I would have done something like this sooner!”

Arthur stared. “Are you saying that you staged the firefight that could have taken our lives?”

“Never!”

“Then are you saying that you would do a special dance to make it rain like crazy just as we were escaping that firefight?”

“I don’t think I can influence nature like that, Arthur. And what would that dance even look like?”

Arthur pressed his fingers against Eames’s lips to make him be quiet. “I’ll send you a video of rain making rituals or something, but for now you don’t get to ask the questions.”

Eames gave Arthur an okay sign. Arthur removed his fingers from Eames’s mouth.

“Well then you didn’t have to do anything to make me kiss you. I kissed you of my own free will. I’ve already mentioned wanting to have sex with you eventually, I took a shower with you, and I’m not stabbing you even though I can feel your hand inching up the bottom of my robe.”

“I’ve got a thing for your legs now. And your chest. Really I just love everything about you. I find you attractive, but you’re also very down to earth. Practical. I find your competence to be one of your sexiest qualities. And now that I’ve learned that you don’t wear underpants, I’m even more intrigued.”

Arthur rolled his eyes and repeated, “You think I’m down to earth? You love my chest?”

“And your legs. I’m surprised you aren’t questioning me about my love of the fact that you like to go commando. I really am.”

“Okay, I will then. You love the fact that I don’t wear underwear? Or at least wasn’t wearing underwear while I was wearing my suit today?”

“I never said I wasn’t a normal man like every other guy. With normal wants and needs. I just think you’re great.”

Arthur smiled at Eames and said, “I think you’re great, too, but damn it, we make it so hard on each other.”

“Then I promise that I’ll be upfront with you about my feelings as long as you’re upfront with me too.”

Instead of shaking on it, Arthur pulled Eames into another kiss to seal the deal, smiling as he did so.

They eventually ordered room service.

Eventually.


End file.
